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Morning

Biscuit walks in DC noticing the door hung on new leathers no longer has the same sag it had. Eyeing the brightly polished bartop and clean tables their legs all in ammend now. Tater clothed still in that aghast Thong sweeps away the last of Ten years of dust.

"TATER!!!!!. Hiyas my friend it has been absolutely ages my friend."What has the world come to"laughing" You went from fighting mobs in the mount to businessman and a ummm dancer?"

a Cloak rack nearly new stands near the door and here Biscuit removes his and tosses it lightly to a empty hook. an elegant sword hilt in hand Biscuit crosses the room and takes a nearby chair and deftly spins it backword and straddles it as he seats himself

"I need to speak with you about taking a room here I assume you have prepared at least one other than yours my friend."